Macaroni & Cheese
by dragonprincess1988
Summary: Tim tries to avoid a conversation with Dick.


Dick hands Tim the bowl of macaroni and cheese. It's made with no milk and twice the amount of butter it's supposed to have because well…going out and getting milk would have just been too simple, or maybe just a bit impossible this late at night…or this early in the day depending on if you're _normal_ or not. And Tim isn't even really sure what he means by normal. He just knows that whatever he means it's not either of the two people sitting on Dick's couch at the moment.

Tim takes the bowl and eats a bite. It's gross, and they both know it's gross before either one of them tries it, but they both eat it anyway. Why? Well, neither one of them really knows, but they still do it anyway. Maybe the reason behind it is politeness, or maybe it's just the fact that it keeps them from discussing…well, anything and everything. And Tim can't bring himself to not be thankful for that one. He knows he should probably put the bowl down and say…something, but he knows all too well how this will end if he just doesn't do anything at all.

This isn't the first time they've done this, mainly because Dick doesn't really keep much else in his cupboards, much to Alfred's dismay, and well, it's a lot easier to sit on Dick's couch, mindlessly watching whatever late night/early morning television they can find, and eating something that is so entirely disgusting that no _normal_ human being would willingly put themselves through this agony, than it is to actually talk. They don't look at each other, and they don't speak. They don't even mention how horrible the massacred macaroni and cheese really is. They just stare at the screen, fairly certain that neither one of them is really watching what's on it.

To Tim, it's a comfortable silence…a relieving and almost relaxing silence, and he can't keep himself from thinking that for _normal _people it wouldn't be. And there it is again, that word--_normal_, and Tim can't even find words to describe it or even define it, but he knows he should be able to. He could go with all of the scientific and textbook meanings for the word, but he doesn't think any of those would be helpful right now. He knows that for _normal _people it would be pretty easy for any one of them to define and describe it, but for him it's just not…it's just… and Tim doesn't even allow himself finish that thought. Instead he tries to focus on a way to not think of the word normal--which is just ridiculous, because if Tim could ever stop thinking about…well, anything he didn't want to, he'd have far less problems in his life.

Tim feels Dick shift next to him, and lets his gaze drift over to the other side of the couch to see Dick getting up to return his bowl to the kitchen, and if it wasn't for the fact that Tim has also finished the repulsive macaroni and cheese, he'd feel just a bit sick knowing Dick had actually eaten all of that…meal, if they could even call it that.

Tim expects Dick to simply head to bed like he normally does on nights like this, but is surprised, pleasantly or unpleasantly, he doesn't know, but surprised nonetheless when Dick comes back over and sits down on the couch again. They continue to stare at the screen, but Tim can't keep himself from thinking about all the ways this isn't going to end well…all the ways it can't end well.

They had a system…a schedule…a pattern…a…whatever it was, and when things deviated from that, Tim knew to be on guard. Nothing good ever came from deviating from a well-tested, well thought-out plan. Tim waits until Dick is settled back in his place on the couch, before standing to return his own bowl to the kitchen. He takes his time walking to the kitchen to put his bowl in the dishwasher, hoping that, with enough time, he'll be able to figure out what Dick is planning; but before he has enough time to fully consider evil plots of an older brother's mind, he hears Dick's voice floating in from the living room. "Are you putting that in the dishwasher, or are you washing all of my dishes by hand? Because I know even YOU can't be that slow."

Tim wants to respond with something equally snarky…really wants to respond, but he knows this trick. It's the playful insulting banter right before something that's the bat equivalent of 'we need to talk' comes out of his mouth, and well, why go somewhere he doesn't necessarily have to? "Sorry, I'm just tired." And he hopes it's a good enough of an excuse to get Dick to drop it--but he's not holding out much hope of that. Dick knows him well enough not to fall for that one, but that doesn't mean Tim doesn't have other tricks up his sleeves either.

Tim pictures Dick rolling his eyes when he speaks. "Oh, come on, even you--'boy who drinks far too much coffee' can't be that tired yet."

It isn't exactly what Tim thought he was going to get after that statement, but he's okay with the fact that there's still a chance for him to get out of this conversation relatively unscathed. "Long day--you know how it is." Tim's back in the living room now, and hopes his face isn't showing any emotion it isn't supposed to be displaying right now, but he's thinking about too many things, and it's far too late/early for him to be expected to fully function the way he usually does.

Dick nods, and pats the seat beside him, and Tim isn't sure if that's because the look he's giving Dick is actually displaying to him that Tim is tired, which he kind of almost is, or if it's for some other reason entirely. "Yeah, I was there for most of it. You know, talking about…stuff can sometimes help."

And there it is…the bat equivalent of 'we need to talk'. True, Dick's way is a little less abrasive than Bruce's 'glare, sit command, and then grunt' method, but it has the same effect none the less…it infuriates Tim, and he isn't even really sure why, but it does all the same. It doesn't take a detective to know that Dick patting the seat next to him isn't because of Tim's perceived tiredness, and Tim finds himself sitting before he even has time to process where this potential conversation is going to end up. He doesn't really have a choice or another way out at the moment, so he accepts that he might have to be just a little more creative in how he leads this conversation.

And that's the one thing he can count on. Dick might have started this conversation…might have initiated it and set everything up to get to this point. After all, he wasn't even supposed to patrol with Dick tonight; it just 'happened' that way, but that doesn't mean Dick will be the one guiding this conversation. Mainly because if there is anything Tim is good at, it's giving people suggestions and seeing where they let their minds take those suggestions. The fact that Tim is almost positive that Dick will almost always take the third suggestion he gives him is helpful, to say the least. Tim would find it sad and a bit boring that Dick is so easily predictable, but he relies on that information just a bit too much to ever really feel bad about it.

So Tim sits and tries to decide if he should just start off the conversation with avoiding or not. Really, his decision depends on how tired Dick is. If he's ready for a long mental battle then it's better to give him a little of what he's looking for, and then slowly move the conversation onto something else; but if Dick is tired and doesn't want a long drawn out conversation, then Tim's best bet is to start the conversation out on a completely different subject than the one Dick is hoping he'll discuss.

Tim waits for Dick to make the first move because that will give him all the information he needs to move forward appropriately, but unfortunately Dick is also waiting for him to speak first. So the two of them continue to sit in silence, and Tim can't help but feel uncomfortable with the stark contrast between this silence and the one they were previously engaged in. Suddenly Tim finds himself, longing for that bowl of two parts butter no parts milk macaroni and cheese, and he almost feels disgusted with himself because actually wanting something that repulsive just shows how far he's willing to go to avoid this conversation.

Again he feels Dick shift next to him, and now Dick is sitting sideways on the couch and fully facing him. "A lot has happened lately, and I think it would be good for you to talk about it."

Tim is a little startled at first. He had expected Dick to dance around the subject for a least another 30 minutes, but Tim appreciates the straight-forwardness that Dick is displaying. It's rare for him to receive that in his life, especially lately, but at the same rate, Tim can't help but feel slightly angry with Dick for bringing this up. True, he hadn't really even brought up anything specific…yet, but Tim feels like it should have been his choice to bring up something to talk about, instead of being forced into a conversation like this.

Then again, if it were up to Tim, he would probably never talk about anything--at least not anything real--and maybe that's part of the problem. But none of that means he's just going to spill his heart out here, because well, he just isn't sure he's ready for that--or if he ever will be ready for that--with anyone. "What's to talk about? Yeah, life is a bit more complicated than I would like, but I deal. There's no reason to get all emotional about it. Now, do you have any soda to wash down that completely disgusting macaroni and cheese--if you can even call that macaroni and cheese?"

"Yeah, I do." Dick looks at Tim for a moment, almost sadly, before he goes to get the soda out of the refrigerator.

And Tim wants to feel bad about it. He wants to hate himself for making Dick look that way. He wants to just stop this charade, but he knows he won't. He knows that, for him, this is the best course of action to take, or at least that's what he tells himself.

When Dick reenters the room, he hands the can to Tim without a word. Tim opens it up and drinks it down in one swift motion, just so he won't have to see whatever look is on Dick's face. He doesn't know what's there, but Tim's fairly certain he doesn't want to know either. "Thanks," he mumbles as he crushes the can in his hand. Tim still hasn't even glanced at Dick, and he's pretty sure he doesn't intend to.

Dick sits back down, and turns to face him again. "You know, it's not just about you talking. I know you can handle yourself. I've seen you do it enough. That's never been the question."

This time Tim, has to look up at Dick, because he really wasn't expecting that one. He hopes he keeps the shock from his face, because not only would it be embarrassing, but Tim can count on one hand the number of times in the last month or so someone has surprised him. "Oh? Then what is this really about?"

Dick smiles, and it's bright and yet dim at the same time--and Tim isn't even sure if that's possible. "It's about getting to know you better."

Tim knows the shock is, at the very least, in his eyes. "Dick, you do know me."

Dick's smile fades at that, and Tim is starting to wonder what kind of trap he just walked into because he clearly isn't in control of this conversation anymore. "Tim, I've never even for one moment deluded myself into believing I really know you. I know things about you. I know parts of you, but I don't really know you."

Tim isn't really even sure what to say to that. The truth is, no one really knows him, and Dick shouldn't feel so unique about being left out. But saying that might just lead somewhere else he doesn't really want to go. "I…," Tim lets his voice trail off for a moment. He needs to at least figure out what Dick wants…what Dick thinks. "What do you want to know? What don't you already know? You know how I think. You know how I work. You know how I am. What more is there?"

Dick shrugs. "I don't know…stuff. I mean, we never really talk anymore."

Tim wants to raise an eyebrow at him, but isn't sure if that would show too much at this hour, so he decides to leave his face impassive. "Um, what are we doing right now, Dick?"

Dick rolls his eyes. "You know what I mean."

Tim shakes his head. "Not really." In fact, Tim's not sure he's known what Dick's really meant for this entire conversation.

Dick gets up and starts pacing in front of him, and well, if Tim knew what this conversation was really about he'd laugh because Dick can never stay still for long. "We never really talk. Every time we start talking about something real…something serious you completely change the subject."

Tim would argue with that, if it wasn't for the fact that it was completely 100% true. He isn't at all surprised that Dick has noticed that, because even the best liars, avoiders, and hiders can't get away with something they do every single time a certain situation comes up. Tim almost wants to reprimand himself for not being better at this, given what he does every night, but he just can't bring himself to feel badly about being caught. "Eh, I just find more entertaining or more important things to talk about. No big deal."

Dick is staring at him with a raised eyebrow. "Really? Then why do all of our conversations always get reduced to stupid, insulting banter."

Tim shrugs once again. "It's how we show our affection?" He's still not quite sure what Dick wants from him, and moving out of this uncomfortable conversation is Tim's main goal at the moment.

Dick reaches over and musses Tim's hair, and Tim is pretty sure it's just for something to do. "Maybe we need to work on that."

Tim gives him a small smile. "Eh, I like it the way it is."

Dick doesn't look convinced of that--not at all. "Do you?"

Tim nods, and he's pretty sure he's found the way out of this conversation. "Yeah, of course I do."

Dick goes back to pacing the length of the room in front of him. "Why?"

Tim tilts his head to one side and stares up at Dick through his too long hair, which he knows for a fact makes him look just as young as he is. "Why wouldn't I? I know you care, and I get to let off some steam in our own little unique, brotherly way."

Dick smiles again, and Tim almost feels bad about playing Dick this way. It's true that part of him does love the way their relationship works, but there's another part that knows he only likes it because he doesn't have to admit what he really feels--or that he even feels anything at all. "So, you're really okay with the fact that we don't exactly have serious conversations often?"

Tim gives him another small smile and nods, mainly because he can't manage anything more than that. He's not just okay with the way their conversations go, he lives for it and relies on it. Dick's smile brightens, and Tim really does feel bad now, because even though this is what he wanted, he knows that Dick would be truly upset with him if he knew the truth. "Of course I am. It works for both of us." And Tim almost feels like something is breaking inside of him because, while it's the truth, it's also the worst lie he's ever told Dick.

Dick grins back as he pats Tim's leg. "Well, I guess I'll let you get some sleep then."

Tim tells Dick goodnight, and then watches as Dick walks into his bedroom and shuts the door. Tim just stares at that door for awhile, and he's silently caught between a strange cross of relief and self-loathing. He lowers himself down onto the couch and closes his eyes. He has to remind himself that this is how he wanted that conversation to go, and that it's better for everyone…especially him, since it ended the way it did. He doesn't believe it, not really, but he slowly forces himself to sleep anyway.

The End


End file.
